Into the World of Night
by Heptagon
Summary: She comes here at night, to gaze into the darkness, her face void and eyes unseeing. He comes here at night, to sit by her side, to watch over her, to protect her. LilyJames


**Author's Note:** My friend asked me to write a normal Lily&James fic. Though I don't think this story can be classified as normal, she was still very happy with it. And so am I. :)

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**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter does not belong to me.

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**Into the World of Night**

I can see her sitting by the lake and staring out into the darkness. The night is moonless and the stars do very little to light the surroundings. Behind her back, most of the castle of Hogwarts seems to be sleeping, although it really never does that. That castle is alive, as long as students still roam its hallways by day and ghosts at night.

I've seen her before, during the day when I lie down on the rock and let the sun warm me, and I stretch out my tentacles and make little waves on the water. I like watching them, the humans, live their lives, carefree, happy, smiling. Sometimes they come too close to me and then I frighten them a little, but I'd never hurt them. I just play with them a little.

Yet this is different. She should be asleep in her tower. Oh yes, I know she is a Gryffindor. I know and recognize each and every one of them - after all, I keep watching them all day long. It's not much else for me to do. Sure, the lake is deep and has all kinds of interesting creatures, quite a vivid company, but they never fascinate me enough, not like those children. Because they're so interesting. Each of them has their own life, their own worries and their own joys, each of them has their own story to tell, and I listen, even if they never speak of it.

I've seen her many times - she likes to sit at the edge of the lake, her feet in the water and laugh or study with her friends. I know she is a kind-hearted person with a good sense of humour, but I also know she is strong and stubborn, yet so passionate about everything she does. She is quite pretty too, with her long fiery hair and sparkling emerald eyes, and other students notice her. She is quite popular. But more than that I admire her inner beauty. I've already told she is kind and strong and passionate. But she is so much more. She is like a rainbow - she encompasses all the colours of the world. I've seen her happy, and I've seen her sad, jealous, disappointed, exhilarated, even vengeful. I would never want to have her as my enemy, and wouldn't recommend it to anyone else as well. Yet sometimes she is so fragile, a beautiful statue of glass that catches the ray of light and reflects it in all the colours of the spectrum, but should she fall, only pieces would be left.

She is everything. Or maybe I'm just an old stupid Squid fallen into the same net as many of the young boys. Maybe I'm simply infatuated with her, and compare her with angels and divine beings when in reality she is just a regular person, just a student like any other.

Yet none of them is same. They are all so different, so unique, so special. Each and every one of them. None of them is anything like someone else. They are all dazzling and divine and perfect in their own way. It's kind of odd they never notice it. But perhaps they are not meant to.

I would bet anything (except I don't really own much and Giant Squids don't bet) that she has told no one about coming here tonight. All her friends probably think she is dreaming behind her curtains, dreaming of flowers or butterflies or boys. She came here around midnight, when everyone else had gone to bed, and I'm certain she will leave before sunrise so that nobody would ever know she was gone.

You ask me how can I be so certain she leaves before sunrise?

And I answer you - because it's not the first night she is sitting by the lake and gazing into the dark abyss, her face emotionless, her eyes empty.

I worry about her a little. All right, perhaps more than a little. If no one knows she comes here, no one can help her. I try to tell myself, convince myself that she only comes here to think, and that she likes to think in the fresh air rather than in her tower room, but I can't be fooled that easily. Not even by myself.

Because, she is not thinking, or if she is, those thoughts are not good. Every day I see thousands of emotions reflect upon her young pretty face, but each night I see that same face, so white, so void, so distant - like a shadow of a person, once radiant and bright but now nothing but a memory.

All right, I may be exaggerating a little. Spending all your days lying in the sunshine and watching people could make one rather poetic and philosophical. Or maybe I'm just weird. Too bad there aren't any other squids in this lake, although then it would get a little tight here. I kind of like to have all this for myself.

I swim a little closer to her, and the ripples I caused would have shone silver by the moonlight except there is no moon tonight. Only stars, but they are not bright enough. So she doesn't notice a thing, even though I doubt she would notice if I rose from the lake in my full glory and settled myself down by her side.

Because her gaze is unseeing, she is looking, but not really looking. She is staring into the darkness of night, but the darkness she sees has nothing to do with the moving of celestial bodies. The darkness she sees is one a sunrise will not banish. At least, not the natural kind of sunlight.

I see someone approach her and I'm momentarily alert. I know I said I would never hurt anyone, but if someone would try to hurt her, I might temporarily forget what I said. Even though she doesn't know it, here she is safe. But perhaps she does know it and perhaps that's why she comes here.

But then I recognize the person behind her and relax. I've seen them together so many times. Usually though they are yelling at each other, and people say she hates him. They are wrong. Even she herself says she hates him from time to time. But she is wrong as well. And I have a feeling that even she knows it.

He stops behind her and even in this pitch blackness I can see his messy raven hair and his glasses. She tells she hates his hair, but I know what she really thinks of it, what she really wants to do with it. Oh, sometimes it's seems I know far too much. But it's not like I could tell it to anyone. And even if I could, I wouldn't. All her secrets are safe with me. Just like she is.

But I know that one day she has to leave Hogwarts and then I can't protect her anymore. If I could choose anyone in the whole world, or at least anyone I've met, to protect her, I'd pick the boy with messy black hair and hazel eyes, the same who is standing behind her the very moment. He cares a lot for her, and he could keep her safe, and if he can't, then no one can. But he would take good care of her, and she would be happy.

Sometimes I feel like she knows it as well, but then she goes off to yell at him, and I doubt.

He has taken a seat behind her back, looking at her, watching her, protecting her. He does not speak to her, and I know he won't either.

You ask me how can I be so certain he will not speak to her?

And I answer you - because it's not the first night he is sitting by the lake beside her to keep an eye on her, to keep her safe, to be there should she ever need him.

He is waiting for her to say the first word, and so am I. So far, she hasn't said a thing. Not tonight, or the night before that, or on any others. But he can be patient and even if she never speaks, he still comes here to look over her.

Sometimes I feel like she knows it, but the next day she yells at him, and I doubt.

Yet, she can't be silent forever. One day she would open her mouth and say something, and he would reply. And even if that's all she says that night, I know it's still a step forward.

Because she cares of him, too. And she can't deny it forever.

During the day, she is a rainbow. At night she is glass, starlight, shadow. During the day, she can pretend, at night there is only the truth.

One night she would speak, and one day she would yell at him no more.

"I see darkness," she would say.

"But I see light," he would answer.

Another day passes, and she yells at him.

"Where?" she would ask.

"Look up," he would say, and raise his gaze towards the millions of stars.

Another day passes, and she yells at him.

"I see darkness," she would say because the sky is cloudy.

"But I see light," he would answer.

"Where?" she would ask.

"Look at me," he would say.

Another day passes, and she yells at him.

"I see darkness," she would say.

"But I see light," he would answer.

"Where?" she would ask.

"Look at me," he would say.

And one day she looks.

"Where?" she asks again.

"In your eyes, Lily, in your eyes," he would answer.

Another day passes, but she doesn't yell at him.

And then they would come here together, at night, and gaze into the darkness together. But they would only see the light.


End file.
